


Rewrite the Stars

by megupic



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Human Trafficking, aerial silks au, circus AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megupic/pseuds/megupic
Summary: Gabriel Agreste is a prolific businessman in 19th century France and is highly respected among the bourgeoisie, which is exactly why he can get away with owning and running the most famous circus travelling France, serving as its ringleader under the name Le Papillon. There he recruits freaks and stars, and in the dark he joins in the black market in human trafficking. This is how Marinette Cheng joins Agreste and co, a child hand-plucked from the heart of China and full of mystery and tales of the Orient. She is given the stage role as La Cocinelle and is taught to be a master acrobat. Immediately Adrien takes an interest in Marinette. But Marinette is wary of him because he's an Agreste, so Adrien takes matters into his own hands and claims a role for himself: Le Chat Noir. But during this journey of self discovery and secret rebellion, Adrien finds out what it’s like to be a performer under the strict and cruel hand of Le Papillon, as well as the dark secrets his father is hiding about himself, Adrien’s missing mother, and how exactly Marinette came to the circus.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! For those of you who don't know, there's an au circulating tumblr called the aerial silk au for the ML fandom and I've found myself involved in it! For those of you who haven't seen it yet, please go and check it out! There's the original artwork by xnatiix and then an addition by qookyquiche and yours truly! It's amazing artwork and a great one shot and I highly recommend looking them up! 
> 
> For those of you who saw the au and came here after hearing I was writing the whole fic, THANK YOU! Thanks for your support and excitement! It's because of you guys (and my friends in my discord server) who have inspired me to continue on with this idea! 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the first chapter!

It was dark. And cold. The girl shivered so violently she nearly bit through her tongue.  Wearing only the thin dress she’d had on when the shadow men had taken her, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying in vain to try to stay warm. By now her dress was little more than scraps that were still, miraculously, being held together by the seams. 

The back of the wagon was suddenly wrenched open, spilling cold lamplight over her. She quickly ducked her head, her eyes shut tight against the sudden intrusion of light, only to have a tall shadow fall over her. Very slowly, the girl cracked open her eyes to see a white man dressed in the finest of suits gazing down at her with eyes made of ice — cold and blue and glittering with danger. A chill rushed down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air. 

The wagon driver came up beside the other man and began speaking to him in a language that sounded like he was choking on marbles. The tall man with ice for eyes handed the driver a bag of coins and then turned to her. The girl’s eyes widened. She’d heard whispers of what shadow men from the West wanted young girls like her for, and she’d expected it on her journey across the world. She’d watched countless girls go before her, being dropped off or traded to other shadow men. And now it was her turn.

The man beckoned to her, his voice evenly controlled, but cold. She didn’t understand a word of what he said, but she understood enough of the situation to know he was telling her to come out. 

The girl’s legs shook in protest as she crawled her way forward to the lip of the wagon. She didn’t want to leave with the Ice Man, but she’d seen what happened to girls who had refused to move when told to. The memories of  them being forcibly pulled out kicking and screaming echoed in her head and pushed her onward until she was out of the wagon and standing in cool, soft grass.

The man’s thin lips pulled into a satisfied smile as said to her,

“ _ Je t’appellerai Marinette et tu vas devenir ma Coccinelle _ .”

***

19TH CENTURY FRANCE, OUTSIDE OF PARIS

The carriage came to a squelching stop in front of the purple, white, and gray tent, a piece of finery that stuck out like a sore thumb. The early spring rain had turned the French countryside into a place of mud, delicate blades of grass, and lavender that swayed in the breeze. Adrien Agreste stepped out of the carriage before the footman had an opportunity to come around with the step stool, not minding a bit as the mud splashed onto his boots. He pulled his coat closer to ward against the chill in the air and passed a large, brightly colored billboard that read BIENVENUE À LA CIRQUE DU PAPILLON, and ducked through the main entrance.

Inside the tent was a hive of activity: performers rushing past in various states of dress, workers weaving around the performers, and several assistant ringleaders shouting directions to anyone with an ear to hear them. The sounds of distant chatter, the band rehearsing, and the distant racket of the caged animals in the back should’ve been a dreadful cacophony compared to the quiet of Agreste Manor that Adrien was accustomed to, but instead he found it exciting and invigorating and  _ full of life _ . He turned and made his way backstage to the ringmaster’s office where he found his father sitting behind his desk, engrossed in a stack of paperwork. 

He glanced up when Adrien stepped through the doorway. “Adrien, what are you doing here?” To anyone else, his father would have sounded as clinical as  he usually did, but Adrien knew him well enough to hear the surprise in his tone.

“What, a son can’t come and surprise his father? I came to see how the show was coming along.” His father raised an eyebrow at that so he quickly added, “And I came to make sure you weren’t working yourself into the ground.”

His father sighed and put down the form he’d been reading. “Adrien, I do not need you to come and check up on me; I am a grown man. You’re  _ supposed  _ to be at the manor anyway, studying.”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m caught up on all my lessons, Madame Sancoeur even praised me for being such a dedicated student. An ‘ _ exceptional student’ _ , if we were to use her words. A little time away won’t hurt.”

“And how long is this “little time”, Adrien? You do know I’m in the middle of a new show.”

“I won’t get in your way,” he reassured his father. “I simply came to observe and learn the trade.” He couldn’t help but grin at that.

Gabriel snorted. “There’s no need. You’re already set to run the estate when the time comes. You don’t need to come out here and consort with the rabble.”

Adrien resisted the urge to point out that his father “consorted with the rabble” every day. They were  _ nouveau riche _ , but they were still a part of the aristocracy. Gabriel put himself high up on a pedestal above the rest of the performers, forgetting that he’d also started from humble beginnings as a merchant’s son and later, a performer. The success of his traveling circus and anonymity of his alias  _ Le Papillon  _ allowed him to launch himself and his small family into the upper ranks of Paris’s social classes. 

Not that Adrien remembered a time when they were poor. His entire life had been spent in splendor and he’d been bred to be the head of the Agreste household once the time came. He’d never have to work in his life other than managing the estate, thanks to his father’s hard work. And it wasn’t like Adrien wasn’t grateful for the life he was given, he was. He just didn’t want to live in a safely, strictly controlled environment for the rest of his life. 

As if his father would let him have anything other than a lord’s life.

“But I came all this way. At least show me the new show you’ve been working so hard on,” Adrien prodded, making sure to keep his tone inviting and not cocky. His father could only take so much casualty from him and he was surprised he’d made it this far already.

Gabriel put down his papers yet again with a deep sigh. “Very well. I suppose you won’t let it rest until you see it anyways.” He stood and made his way out the door and Adrien happily trailed behind him.

“I’ve taken to a theme this year,” his father explained as they wove their way through bustling tent. “Most other circuses in Europe are still focused on just the variety and scale of their acts, but I already know that I have the best in France. I want to take this show a step further and center it on a theme: Miraculous. I want our audience to see what we do and see miracles being made on stage and not just the amateur stunts other circuses do. We will go above and beyond with our acts, our design, everything.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Adrien said, already grinning. He loved seeing his father talk about his work because this was the only time he ever saw him open up. He used to smile all the time and put on puppet shows for Adrien when describing the circus. But all shadow shows and smiles stopped when Adrien’s mother disappeared five years ago, when he was around thirteen years old. His father had grown distant and cold and started to spend more time at the circus without coming home. His tutor, Ms. Nathalie Sancoeur, had become more of a parent to him and even then she was always so formal and made sure to keep a certain distance between herself and Adrien. So now the only way to see a glimpse of the man his father used to be was to prod him into talking about the circus, like now. 

His father led him through the tent, pausing briefly to correct a performer’s act, point out something that needed fixing on a costume, or answer a question for a panicking stagehand. He led Adrien up the stairs onto the second floor to observe a few groups who were performing in the ring. An acrobat was already swinging on the trapeze Her body twisted and turned as she finished a trick before sailing straight towards him. Upside-down, with only her legs holding onto the bar, she soared through the air in an arc across the arena. She bent her back in a graceful curve, her face lifting to meet his— 

_ Blue _ .

Bright blue eyes, vibrant and like an endless sea. Time slowed and then stopped completely as the trapeze girl swung within hand’s reach of where Adrien stood behind the balustrade. Stray pieces of jet black hair floated around her face, stuck in time. The girl’s gaze drifted and met his own, her lips slightly parted. She seemed to hang there in the air for what seemed a lifetime, the air charged and yet completely still, the dull roar of the circus all but silenced around them.

And then she was gone. Time started to move once again and she fell away, back to the center of the tent, leaving him standing there, stunned.

“Who is that?” he murmured, head light and dizzy from the after-effects of the spell.

“My new acrobat, Marinette,” the sound of his father’s voice at his shoulder shook him from the daze, bringing him solidly back to earth. “I’ve been having her trained in the trapeze, tightrope, and aerial silks. Luckily she’s been picking them up quickly; she’s a very fast learner despite not being able to speak or understand French. I can already tell she’s going to be the star of this show.”

“Yes, she definitely is,” Adrien murmured as he watched Marinette from across the tent. Then the rest of what his father said caught up to him. “Why doesn’t she speak or understand French?”

“She is originally from China. She’s only been with us for a few weeks at best so it hasn’t been long enough for her to have picked up the language.” His father turned back to him, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Actually, I may have a job for you if you’re so intent on staying. You would be the perfect person to teach her since you speak Chinese. You are an ‘ _ exceptional student’ _ , are you not?”

Adrien stared at his father, hardly believing his ears. “Of-of course, Father,” he managed to stammer, fighting hard not to grin like a fool right then and there. “I would love to; thank you for the opportunity.”

Gabriel simply hummed in response. “It’s time to see those Chinese lessons put to good use.”

 


	2. Introductions

“I have a very important announcement to make.” Gabriel’s voice travelled throughout the whole tent to the listening ears of his troupe encircling him. Adrien stood at the back of the crowd, leaning with his arms folded against a post.  “We are no longer going to stay in Paris.”

A nervous murmur rippled through the crowd.

“We are not going to be closing down,” his father said over the buzz. “On the contrary, this year we are going on a grand Tour of France. It’s high time the rest of this country sees what we are truly capable of.”

The tent erupted into loud shouts and cheers, the entire troupe excitedly turning to each other to discuss the news. Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Marinette standing alone at the edge of the circle. Her eyes were darting around to the other members of the troupe, wide and holding a mix of confusion and fear at their shouts. She held one of her arms close to her side, back stiff and straight as a rod.

Seeing his opportunity, Adrien moved closer to her. She saw him coming out of the corner of her eye and warily turned to him.

“Hello,” he greeted in Cantonese. He watched her eyes widen slightly in understanding and felt a thrill of excitement run through him. “The circus is going on a Tour of France. That’s why everyone’s excited.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” she said in a quiet voice. She didn’t seem to feel anything towards the news. But then her eyes took on a sparkle when she asked, “How do you know my language? Or that I even speak it?”

“Oh,” Adrien chuckled, feeling his face warm. “I’ve taken lessons since I was young. My father told me you just recently joined the troupe and that you came all the way from China.”

All at once Marinette’s face drained of all color. “Your father is the leader? Him?” She pointed a slender finger towards Adrien’s father, who was still speaking to the troupe about the tour.

“Yep, that’s him. My name’s Adrien Agreste. It’s nice to meet you,” he held out a hand for her to shake, grinning at her. But she only looked down at his hand, then back up to him.  Her eyes narrowed and her lips slightly turned down.

“Thank you for translating,” she merely said, then turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

Adrien stared after her, blinking stupidly, mentally backtracking to figure out why she had turned so cold so suddenly. He couldn’t figure it out for the rest of the meeting.

***

After the meeting, Adrien followed his father back to his office.

“I do not have much time before I have to start prepping for the show tonight,” his father began without any greeting. “Let’s go over what I expect from you as a teacher and what your schedule will be like while we are on tour. Just because I am giving you a job does not mean you can lax in your studies or daily activities.”

Adrien suppressed a sigh and took a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk. “Yes, father.”

Gabriel launched into what he expected: studies in regular subjects such as language, mathematics, decorum, and property management as well as regular fencing lessons. Everything after that just started to sound like white noise to Adrien and he found himself spacing out until one of his father’s stage managers walked in.

He stammered something about a costume not working properly before Gabriel waved a hand, silencing the stage manager, and turned to Adrien as he stood up.

“I will return shortly.”

Adrien nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing casually around the office as his father and the stage manager left. It was small, but private; a luxury for a circus that couldn’t afford to many. It consisted of a desk that took up half the space, hidden underneath piles of paperwork and scraps of sequined cloth. Adrien smiled to himself. His father really was a wreck without Mother or Nathalie to keep him organized.

Walking around to the back of the desk, Adrien’s eyes fell on a black and white photograph: a group photo of the original Cirque du Papillon. Picking it up, he gazed down at the wide grins from all the troupe members in full costume, standing in front of the big top. His father was right in the center, giving a proud smile to the camera. He was a lot more poised than most of the troupe members, who were caught mid-laugh, displaying wide grins with lots of teeth (or less teeth, for a few of the performers). Everyone looked so happy and full of life and hope. It was a dream realized.

Adrien felt his heart tug. It had been a long time since he had seen his father smile like that.

He replaced the photo back on the desk and cast a glance over some of the documents on top of the messy desk: a money ledger, contracts, a trade agreement, a half-constructed poster for upcoming auditions—

Footsteps sounded outside the office. Adrien’s head whipped up at the sound and hastily took several steps back from the desk just as his father walked in. He sat down behind the desk with a barely audible sigh.

“As I was saying before, we will leave for the manor in approximately an hour. Don’t be late to the carriage; I hope to leave as quickly as possible so we can be back for dinner and then straight to bed,” Adrien deflated with each order, sounded off as a command for him to follow. His father didn’t seem to notice he continued, “The circus is about to be busier than ever and _you_ need to start teaching my acrobat to understand French.”

“Yes sir,” Adrien murmured before excusing himself and stepping out of the office. There was someone he needed to talk to before they left.

Adrien headed straight for the performer’s tents, located in the field behind the big top. It was large cluster, almost its own village with avenues of brightly-colored fabric, rustling grass, and bubbling laughter. The tents were arranged in a way that they formed a circle, with a grassy common area in the center where much of the cooking, eating, and socializing happened.

Adrien dodged a flying petticoat that was thrown from one tent across to another and grinned over his shoulder when someone whistled at him. The air was full of muffled chatter from the tents, someone a few tents over shrieked, a fiddle’s jig bobbed overhead and wove its way through every avenue, adding a spring to Adrien’s step.

He came to a stop in front of a blue tent swathed in red, black, brown, and white fabrics and ducked inside, only to be met with a shirt to the face.

“Hey man, don’t you know it’s rude to come in without knocking?!”

Adrien laughed and threw the shirt back to Nino, who was seated at a small, round table, half his face covered in blue face paint.

“Sorry, I just didn’t think it would’ve been terribly effective,” Adrien pushed on the fabric of  the tent wall for effect, causing it to flutter underneath his touch.

“Ha ha,” Nino responded, rolling his eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Have you met the new acrobat, Marinette?”

Nino’s brows went up. “I’ve seen her, but I haven’t exactly met her. She doesn’t speak to anyone. Well, except for Alya, but it’s more of Alya talking to _her_ and gesturing. She’s a mute.”

Adrien shook his head. “Oh, she talks. She just speaks Cantonese.”

“What the hell is Cantonese?”

“It’s a dialect from China,” Adrien said offhandedly. He then launched into the story of how he ran into her and their brief exchange before she froze him out.

“I don’t even know what I did wrong!” Adrien exclaimed after he’d finished, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the faded and worn corner of the table.

“I dunno, man,” Nino said from across the small round table, staring down at the mirror propped up in front of him as he lined his eyes with kohl. “The only one who would really know what was goin’ through Marinette’s head is Marinette. Just try talking to her.”

Adrien scoffed. “I doubt that would go over well.”

“Then what do you need me for? I’m a clown, not a mind reader!” He looked up and gestured to his pastel-blue face.

Adrien gave an unsatisfied huff. “Can’t a guy just vent to his best friend?”

Nino’s expression softened and he sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Just tired, I guess. I’m not exactly the advice type.”

Adrien frowned. “You have Alya. You must have done something right.”

His friend barked out a laugh. “Yeah, somethin’. I’m still not sure what I did.”

“So the secrets of love remain an elusive mystery!” Adrien let out a dramatic sigh and stretched his arms over his head.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Love? Didn’t you just meet Marinette _today_?”

“Yeah, so?”

Nino set down his kohl pot and pen and looked Adrien dead in the eye. It would have felt more serious if his face hadn’t been covered in black and blue cosmetics.

“You’re crazy,” the clown said without a trace of comedy.

Heat flared through Adrien’s face, but he continued on anyway. “I have to figure out some way to talk to her without her running away again.”

“Well unless you suddenly became someone other than Adrien Agreste, I doubt it will happen,” Nino said, going back to applying his stage makeup.

Adrien let out a quiet sigh and traced his fingers against the grains in the table. _Someone other than Adrien Agreste._ It was hilarious, really. For practically his entire life, being Adrien Agreste had gotten him whatever he’d wanted, access to almost anywhere he’d wanted to go.

And now his name was useless.

Not that he wanted to use his status or name to get close to Marinette. He just wished he could understand her more, like the other performers might...

Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind and Adrien gasped, bolting upright and slamming his feet down on the ground _._ Nino jumped, drawing a long black line down his cheek and curse colourfully.  

“I can audition for the new acrobat role!” Adrien exclaimed. “I remember seeing a flyer in my father’s office, they’re right before we leave on tour!”

Nino stared at him incredulously, “What?! Are you crazy, man? I _know_ your father won’t let you in ten feet of those auditions, much less _join_ them! That’s a terrible idea.”

“What doesn’t know won’t hurt him…” Adrien mused, remembering the photo on his father’s desk. More importantly, the masks that every performer wore with their costumes.

“And how exactly do you plan on keeping it a secret?”

Adrien pointedly looked at the make-up pot in Nino’s hands, much to the performer’s exasperation.

“All right, but how _long_ do you think you could keep it a secret? We’re going on tour and it’s not like he would notice that his only son ran away from home.”

“I’m coming with the circus,” Adrien explained. “I’m supposed to teach Marinette French so she’ll be better able to learn her routines. It won’t be too hard switching between myself and a performer. My father has tunnel vision when it comes to the show! He’ll be so focused on it that he won’t have time to notice that I’m gone. I just need him to see me tutoring Marinette and after shows for dinner. It’s completely doable!” Just the idea of it all had Adrien’s blood pumping. During the day he could be Adrien Agreste and during the night, he could take on whatever persona he wanted for the stage. Was this what it felt like to be a double agent?

Nino laughed dryly. “Good luck with that.”

“What, you don’t think I could do it?” Adrien frowned.

“Well, let’s see here,” he started counting points off of his fingers. “You’d have to have the acrobatic skills, which you don’t have. I doubt you’ve done anything close to what you’d need to in order to even be in minimum shape to be an acrobat.”

“I’m plenty active,” Adrien said, bristling. “I can fence.”

Nino gave him a look and kept going. “You’d have to audition somehow without your father finding out it’s you. You’d have to explain to Marinette how you know Chinese without tipping her off that it’s you, you’d have to beat everyone else auditioning for the role, _people who are actually qualified_. Come on, man, this is some people’s way to put bread on the table and to gain a home as a last resort to starving in the streets. You already have that security. This job isn’t just a temporary stunt to have fun, kiss a girl, and then go home for.”

That stung. Did Nino really think he wasn’t serious about all of this? Despite their differences, Adrien had hoped his friend would’ve had more faith in him than this. He couldn’t ignore the bitterness and jealousy in Nino’s voice either and it felt like a snake had found a home in Adrien’s stomach. He swallowed around the lump growing in his throat and stood up.

“Fine. _Bonne chance_ with the show tonight.” He made to leave, ignoring Nino calling him back as he lifted the heavy fabric and let it drop behind him.

 

He hadn’t made it far before a voice to his right caused him to stop.

“So I heard you need a teacher.” Adrien turned to see a man around his age standing in the shadows of a nearby tent, a cheshire grin plastered onto his sooty face. He was dressed in patched up rags that all were in varying shades of black and his inky hair was so messy Adrien wondered if he’d ever had access to a comb. But what _really_ stood out to Adrien was the man’s  eyes. They were so green they practically _glowed_ in the dim twilight, sending an involuntary shiver down Adrien’s spine.

“You were eavesdropping?”

The eavesdropper shrugged. “Nothing’s really private around here when you have cloth and tarp for walls. Come,” he jerked his head towards the big top and away from the performer’s tents.

Adrien wasn’t sure why, but he followed.

Only once they were backstage, hidden by shadow and stacked crates, did the stranger turn around and speak. “So, the little prince wants a shot at being a circus freak?”

“I’m not a prince,” Adrien muttered, feeling his face flame up at the teasing.

“You might as well be around here,” he said, gesturing around them. “But that’s not important. What _is_ important that you want to join the circus because you have a crush on the star acrobat.” He snickered.

Adrien’s face was on fire now. “So what does it matter to you? Did you only come here to tease me? Because if so, I can leave. I don’t have time for this.”

“So uptight.” The guy muttered and rolled his eyes. “Relax, kid!”

“I am not a kid! I’m probably as old as you are!” Adrien protested and only received a shrug in response.

“Whatever. I actually didn’t come here to mock you, although it is pretty fun.” He ignored the glare Adrien sent him and continued, “Just consider me interested in your potential. I wanna see what’ll happen when a pampered son of the _bourgeoisie_ joins the circus rabble. So you get to infiltrate the circus and woo the little China girl and I get wildly entertained by it all. Win-win.”

Adrien eyed him warily. The deal sounded too good to be true and too easy. Maybe it was the young man’s crooked grin and dirty, ragged appearance that made Adrien immediately suspicious of him, and yet…

Yet Nino had said no, that what he wanted to do was too risky. He hadn’t said it, but Adrien had the feeling that Nino thought this was just a stunt that rich white boys did to get attention or girls or just a few minutes of fun; and yet here was a guy who Adrien didn’t even _know_ offering him what he wanted on a silver platter.

“Is entertainment really all you’re looking for from this?” Adrien asked slowly.

The young man cocked his head in thought, pursing his lips and humming. “Now that you mention it, you could also pay me in cheese.”

Adrien balked. “In _cheese_?”

“Yep! Camembert, to be precise. I have a taste for expensive food but alas,” he huffed a dramatic sigh and turned out his empty pockets, pieces of lint, stray buttons, and crumbs falling out in the process, “I have no money to acquire it. So I get you into the circus and you get me camembert. ” He extended a hand covered in soot and dirt, green eyes gleaming in the dark. “Deal?”

Adrien eyed the hand. He could be making a terrible decision. The man could be swindling him in some way. Was he really going to do this?

His hesitation only lasted a moment before he took the filthy hand in his. Rough calluses and cracked, dry skin met his and he tried not to cringe. “Deal.” He shook once and then quickly took back his hand, wiping it on his pant leg. “By the way, what’s your name? You already know mine, I think it’s only fair if I know who _you_ are.”

Adrien could have sworn the man’s pupils narrowed into cat-like slits when he purred, “Call me Plagg.”


End file.
